


Business Trip

by Mireille



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-01
Updated: 2005-09-01
Packaged: 2019-03-11 06:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13518108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: Things to do when your boss sends you out of town. Set during AtS S1.





	Business Trip

"So you got the talisman?" Angel's voice sounded a little crackly; the phone lines in this motel weren't in the best condition.

"I have it," Wesley agreed. He shifted position a little, trying to get more comfortable on the lumpy mattress. The Angel Investigations bank account wasn't really up to funding out-of-town business trips, and Wesley wasn't in any position to contribute anything out of his personal funds. His personal funds had--just barely--covered a granola bar and a can of soda from the vending machines downstairs, so he was stuck in this motel with the uncomfortable bed and the ceaselessly-dripping sink. "I should be back by tomorrow afternoon."

"Good," Angel said, rather more vehemently than Wesley had been expecting. Then, after a long pause, he said, "I, uh... I miss you."

Wesley smiled. He hadn't been expecting that--things were too new between Angel and him for him to have many expectations at all--but it was certainly a pleasant surprise. "I rather think I know the feeling," he confessed. In more ways than one, he had to admit, although he told himself that it was ridiculous for him to be quite this eager to be back where he could touch Angel, after only three days on the road. Ridiculous or not, though, just hearing Angel's voice was enough to have a definite physical effect on him. 

He was still fully dressed, except for his shoes, but now he unfastened his belt and undid his trousers, slipping his hand inside. He tried to keep his voice sounding perfectly normal as he asked Angel how things were going back in Los Angeles, ignoring the sense of the words--something about Cordelia's indecipherable filing system--in favor of simply listening to the cadences of Angel's voice. 

He slid his hand slowly along the length of his cock, the touch and Angel's voice quickly getting him hard. Wesley closed his eyes, thinking about the last time Angel had touched him like that, and bit his lip to suppress a moan. 

Then, suddenly, Angel broke off mid-complaint about the alphabet according to Cordelia Chase. "Wes, are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, of course," Wesley said, his breath hitching a little as he rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock. 

"You're not. You're--" Angel paused, and Wesley could picture his slightly suspicious expression as he asked, "What are you doing?"

Suddenly a bit embarrassed--even if Angel himself had done this, and far more, to him the morning he left--he said, "Nothing."

He thought for a moment that Angel had believed him, until he heard, "You know, even with this crappy connection, I can hear your breathing, Wes."

That, he supposed, was one of the drawbacks of being involved with a vampire. He flushed a little. "Then I'm sure you can guess what I'm doing," he answered softly. 

"Maybe I'd like you to tell me anyway." There was something intense in Angel's tone, something that reminded Wesley of the other night, when he'd been bent over Angel's couch and fucked because neither of them wanted to stop long enough to make it all the way to the bedroom. 

He smiled again, his embarrassment giving way to even stronger arousal. "I told you that I miss you," he said, beginning to move his hand up and down the length of his erection again. "Hearing your voice just reminded me how much."

"How much?" It really was quite unfair, Wesley decided, that Angel didn't need to breathe; it made it that much more difficult for Wesley to tell how much of an effect his words were having on him. 

"Enough that I can't think about anything but tomorrow when I get back," he said, still, stroking himself. He'd been irritated earlier to discover that the air-conditioning unit had got stuck on "high," but now it made his hand on his cock feel more like it was actually Angel touching him, cool palm rubbing against overheated, needy flesh. "I think you may want to give Cordelia the afternoon off," he suggested hopefully. 

"Won't she be suspicious?"

"She already is," he said, and he might have savored Angel's surprise if he hadn't been struck by an image of the two of them on the desk in the office. He groaned, squeezing himself a little roughly. Angel sometimes forgot his own strength, though never enough to actually harm Wesley, and the slight pain just added verisimilitude to his fantasy. 

"I _want_ you, Wes," Angel nearly growled at his groan, and Wesley could only gasp out his agreement. He wanted more than his own hand. He wanted to sink deep into Angel, feel Angel--Angel, whom he admired, whom he respected, whom he thought he was beginning to love--underneath him, around him, tight and slick with lube and so much better than his hand that perhaps he should just check out of this motel and make the trip back to Los Angeles tonight. 

He was hard and aching, his fingers messy from the pre-come leaking from the tip, and Wesley squeezed his eyes shut more tightly, his mind filled with images of Angel and the desk and Angel and the bed downstairs in Angel's apartment and the taste and smell and feel of him... He couldn't collect his thoughts sufficiently to speak, but form the sounds coming through the receiver, the groans and gasps and occasional words that escaped him were more than enough for Angel. Wesley's hand was moving faster now as he gave himself over to the fantasy, the tightening in his balls telling him he was close, _so_ close--

Until a loud crash had him sitting bolt upright again with a startled cry, eyes open, heart pounding from the shock.

"Wes? What happened? Is everything okay?" Angel demanded. 

Wesley blinked, looking around the room until he saw what had happened. "A picture fell off the wall," he said. "This bloody motel is falling down around my ears."

After a moment, Angel said, hopefully, "Maybe you'd better just check out and come home now, then?"

Wesley considered that carefully. He'd need a shower--a cold one, if he was going to keep his mind on the road--but it would only take him a few minutes to get packed up. He could be checked out and on his way within three quarters of an hour, at the outside. "I wouldn't get back until about two," he said, looking at the clock.

"I'm a vampire. I think I can stay up that late," Angel said. "If it helps, as your boss, I could order you back to the office."

Wesley laughed. "As a diligent employee, then, I suppose I'd have to." Then, still smiling to himself, he added, "Though I expect to be given the day off tomorrow."

"I think you're going to be far too busy to come into the office in the morning," Angel agreed. 

Wesley said goodbye to Angel quickly--his reluctance to hang up the phone overruled by his desire to get back to Los Angeles--heading for the shower. He should get some coffee before he left town, he decided. If things went well, it'd be a while before he got any sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> [me on tumblr](https://mireille719.tumblr.com)


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